"What do you think of our Baby?"
What do I think of the baby!
I think her a marvel of grace,
With her eyes of heavenly azure,
And her perfectly rounded face.
I think her a very rosebud,
Growing in the garden of love,
To bloom, not one summer only,
But forever and aye above.
I think her a pure, white lily,
To float on the fathomless tide
Of a mother's deathless affection;
Neath her sheltering wings to hide.
I think her a pet and a plaything,
To frolic on her father's knee,
And lie in his arms unfearing;
Not anxious the future to see.
Preaching in sweet, baby language,
A sermon from this golden text,
"Never be anxious or troubled,
For this life, or yet the next."
I think if Jesus of Nazareth
Was walking on earth to-day;
His steps would pause at your Eden,
He would enter nor haste away,
I think that sweet Amy Lillian,
Would rest in His bosom of love,
While His hand most gently in blessing
Would rest, her fair forehead above.
I think He would bid you train her,
By the pattern in His word given,
Not for the lower life only,
But more for the kingdom of Heaven.